my own
• Written by Anonymous
Your blood, unleash that aids swag
Where the black girls get their weaves back
Know what i do: manufacturing crack
The bummer is the fact that i'm black
You gotta adapt though i'm never going back
Fourth quarter, that sack; fourth ward in all black
While i am poppin' like a snappin' crack
And goin' half on a motherfuckin' hundred sack
Look how i do it, yo i'm taking you back
It's blacc friday and i'm glad to be black
Sold sega games, his cousin sold crack
He kind of grew into the shape of a mack
Like you threw something to me-so i threw em back
Over the edge, yeah i hide in a potato sack
How you gonna look in your son's face and turn your back
Like bobby had whitney we was cooking up crack
Somebody tell satan that i want my swag back
I'm happy on my own
She wanna be grown
Shit ain’t better alone
Real street nigga, ain’t no clone
Be shy when we're all alone
Getting brain when i’m talking on the phone
The j gets smaller, i'm loving my zone
coz I get bitches on my own
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